


If I Could See Your Face Once More

by harryydarling



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 04:32:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harryydarling/pseuds/harryydarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a very angsty one shot with no smut what-so-ever, besides the slightest mention you could ask for. I would highly recommend reading this while listening to All I Want by Kodaline. It will greatly add to the effect and bring tears to your eyes. Enjoy! :)</p>
    </blockquote>





	If I Could See Your Face Once More

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very angsty one shot with no smut what-so-ever, besides the slightest mention you could ask for. I would highly recommend reading this while listening to All I Want by Kodaline. It will greatly add to the effect and bring tears to your eyes. Enjoy! :)

Harry rolled over onto the opposite side of the bed, burying his head into the pillow that sits next to his own. The smell has faded quite a bit, but a faint hint of the muskiness and citrus still remains. Harry takes a deep breath, in the same manner that he has for that past god knows how long. He’s lost track of time. Of the last time he saw him.

That night plays over in his head as it does every morning, reminding him of what causes the never ending pain in his chest. Every morning he is reminded of the worst night of his life.

The night Louis left him.                       

Harry forces himself out of bed. If he had it his way, he would stay there for the rest of his life. But every morning he reminds himself of the reasons he needs to go out and live his life – which aren’t many in his mind – and gets himself dressed and ready. He does just that, choosing a long sleeve jumper to hide the never ending marks that run up his arm.

He decides to call up his best friend Nick and see if he wants to hang out. Harry hasn’t seen many of his friends since the incident, but they have certainly made an effort to see him. He agrees with himself that it’s about time he gets back in touch with them. So he dials Nick’s number and he picks up on the second ring.

            “Hey Curly, how’s it going?” Harry hears the peppy voice on the other end.

            “Oh it’s going, I suppose,” He replies halfheartedly. It hurts to even act happy. He doesn’t feel like he even deserves to be happy after the incident.

            “Well that’s good, I suppose,” Nick chuckles, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

            “Yeah, so I was wondering if you wanted to catch up today sometime. If you weren’t busy,” Harry asks.

            “Yeah, yeah, of course! Do you want to meet up at that little coffee shop around noon?” Nick proposes.

            “Yeah, that sounds fine,” Harry smiles the slightest.

            “Great, see you then, mate,” Nick hangs up.

Harry takes a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare himself for the social interaction he is about to take part in. It’s already 11:30, so he only has a few minutes before he has to leave. The coffee shop is on the other side of town, so he has a bit of a commute. He flips through the TV channels, not really paying attention until the clock struck 11:15.

He grabbed his jacket and sunglasses, put both on, and headed out the door to the parking lot. He found his Range Rover and climbed in. He hadn’t driven his car very often since the incident. As he started the engine, he thought about how he and Louis had gone to the car dealership together. Louis had instantly fallen in love with the Rover and Harry, being in love with Louis, agreed to buy it. They had a lot of memories in the SUV. Road trips, arguments, love making, even a few minor accidents. All of it came rushing back to Harry. The road in front of him become a blurry mess, and he quickly blinked a few times to clear it up.

 _Pull yourself together_ he told himself. He didn’t need to be red in the face when he showed up to the coffee shop. He takes deep breaths, successfully keeping the tears at bay. He can’t afford to lose it now.

-

The coffee shop appears on his right, and he parallel parks in the first open spot he can find. He walks a little ways down the sidewalk and is greeted by a rich coffee smell as he enters the building. He sees Nick sitting at a table already with two cups.

            “Hey bud,” he stands up and gives Harry a hug, “I took the liberty of buying your favorite for you.” Nick chuckles.

            “Thanks, but you didn’t have to.” Harry says earnestly.

            “Oh don’t do that now. You know I enjoy spending all of my money one you,” Nick jokes.

            Harry laughs, “Thanks again.”

            Nick nods. “So, uh, how’ve you been? You know, lately.”

Harry knows what Nick is trying to say and silently praises him for not saying it out loud. “I’ve been alright. I mean, as good as I can be considering the circumstances.” Harry gives a small smile.

            “Yeah, yeah.” Nick nods understandingly. “You know I’m always here for you, right? I can be serious at times,” he smirks.

            “Yeah, I know. Don’t take it personally, I haven’t really talked to anybody since it happened.” Harry shrugs.

            “That’s not healthy, babe. You really need to talk to somebody. Let your feelings out.” Nick looks into his eyes.

            Harry nods as he tries to force the tears back down his throat, “It’s just hard, you know?”

            “I understand.. but it’ll make you feel better, I promise.” Nick pats Harry’s hand that rests on the table.

            “I’m going to go see him today, Nick.” Harry blurts.

            Nicks mouth opens like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Harry.”

            “I want to. It’s been too long.” Harry drinks the rest of the coffee that he’s been occasionally sipping.

            He begins to scoot his chair out but Nick says something, “Wait, you’re going now?”

            “Yeah, I can’t wait any longer.”

            “Can I at least come with you?” Nick stands up with him.

            “I think I should do this on my own,” Harry answers as he walks to the door. “It was great catching up with you, Nick.”

            Nick only has time to nod before Harry is out the door.

-

Harry takes the drive he knows too well, to the place that is the hardest to visit. Even though this is where Louis is, he hates the place with every fiber of his being. He pulls onto a dirt road which leads about 400 feet to a dirt parking lot. He parks the car and exits the vehicle. The parking lot is empty except for his black Rover.

He walks along a cobble stone path, underneath the trees above him. Soft rays of light shine through the leaves creating a weird aura around the place. The grass is so green and alive, which is extremely ironic considering where he is right now.

He has to walk quite a ways, through many turns, but he’s been here so many times he has it memorized. He takes one last turn and his breath catches in his throat. The sight of him here never fails to create a lump in his throat.

But maybe if it were actually _him_ it would make this a little bit more bearable. The tombstone sitting in front of him does nothing to suffice his need to see Louis himself. The tears begin to form incessantly, successfully falling down over his cheeks as he looks over the most unforgiving reminder of Louis he has seen.

The stone is a beautiful granite that Harry had to make the hard decision of picking out himself. The font was a no brainer, Louis himself had said to him: ‘When I die, don’t put something as tacky as _Comic Sans_ on my tombstone. I may not have been a very classy person, but that doesn’t mean my tombstone can’t be.’

Harry had laughed at him then, not expecting to have to worry about that in the near future. But only a month later, Harry was sitting down picking out granite and fonts. The memory makes him cry harder, forcing him to sit down in the grass next to the stone.

Harry positions himself in front of the smooth granite, staring at the words: _Louis William Tomlinson: A wonderful Son, amazing brother, unbelievable friend, and incredible boyfriend. You will be dearly missed, and forever in our hearts._

Harry traces over the indented words with his forefinger, trying to regain the strength to speak.

“Hey baby.” He chokes out. He lets out a sob before continuing, “I miss you so much.”

He buries his head in his hands and just lets it out. He cries so hard. He pulls his knees up to his chest and his body shakes with his tears. He’s so glad he’s the only one in the cemetery right now, sparing himself of the scene he would’ve made otherwise.

He cries out. He yells the name of the boy he loves and misses so much into the air. The pain he feels right now is unbearable. It’s like someone is trying to rip through his chest cavity with a pair of safety scissors. He’s inhaling rapidly as he finds that he has no more tears to cry.

“Why Louis? Why would you leave me like this?” he shouts at the tombstone, “How could you do this to me?” His sobs start up again as he barely whispers, “Why didn’t you take me with you?”

“Did you not love me like I loved you?” Harry cries, although he knows it’s not true. Louis did love him, that much was certain. It was the rest of the world he hated.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to find you like that?” On the day of the incident, Harry had walked in to their apartment at around 4 P.M. He needed to use the bathroom unbearably bad. So, naturally he made his way to the bathroom. He could see the light was on, but he tried the door anyway. It was locked. Harry assumed Louis was in there and knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He checked the rest of the house for him, but he wasn’t anywhere to be found. Panic mode set in, and he tried everything he good to get that door down. It finally opened and what Harry saw brought him to his knees, and bile to his throat. Louis was laying in the bathtub, naked, his wrists slashed, the floor and tub covered in blood. Harry had ran over to him and tried for a pulse, but there was nothing. He tried everything he could to resuscitate him before finally calling the ambulance. Harry held Louis’ limp body the entire time he waited for the ambulance to arrive. The paramedics had to practically pry Louis out of his arms.

Louis looked so small on the gurney, and even smaller in the morgue where Harry was told the inevitable: Louis had killed himself. It took Harry everything he had to not run home and do the same. Harry felt completely hopeless. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t go back to an empty flat; a flat void of Louis to hold as he tried to sleep. He felt so empty. Like somebody had hollowed him out of everything substantial. He felt so void of feelings.

He was also given the burden of telling all of his friends and family. Telling Louis’ mother that her son had killed himself was the most torturing and miserable things he has ever had to do. He felt that she would blame him. Blame him for not taking better care of her son. But the thing is, is Harry does blame himself. He was the one that Louis spent a majority of his time with. Harry should’ve seen the signs. But he didn’t, and that hurts more than anything.

Louis had left a note. Harry hadn’t found it right away. He had taped it to the fridge, and Harry, not having much of an appetite, didn’t find it until weeks later. When he read it, his heart broke all over again.

Harry pulled the folded up piece of paper out of his pocket and held it in his hand.

“I didn’t have a clue you felt this way, babe.” Harry says, referring to the note. “You could’ve talked to me. Told me everything. Just anything to keep you from doing what you did. This breaks my heart. I thought you trusted me.” He pauses. “I blame myself, you know. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. How can I not? I was the only one there. I was the one that you should’ve been able to trust and confide in. But you couldn’t, and that makes me feel like I did something wrong. God this fucking sucks. I can’t do it anymore, Louis. I can’t. A life without you is not a life I want to live. It’s not a life I _can_ live. I just need to be with you. If only I could see your face one more time. That way I could die happy. I would for sure.

“We used to be happy. I know we did. Maybe we even were up until the end. Remember that road trip we took?” Harry laughs lightly to himself, his crying subsided to only misty eyes. He lays in the grass next to his boyfriend. “We drove all across the country. We stopped at every little corner store in every dingy old town to buy fridge magnets or postcards. Just to prove we were there. Do you remember? I hope you do, because I certainly do. That was the best 3 weeks of my life. It was just us. Us and the open road. We had so much fun. We talked about everything. We stayed in the crappiest motels just to save money. I swear, we caught some sort of disease from at least 3 of them.” Harry laughs out loud, a true genuine laugh. But it ends shortly, knowing that Louis isn’t here to share it with him.

“And there was the weekend we spent at your parent’s cabin in the winter. That damn heater didn’t work, and we had to spend the whole weekend wrapped in blankets and drinking hot chocolate. But I guess that isn’t too bad. They do say that you should cuddle naked for warmth. And we definitely did that for a majority of the weekend. You know, I’m starting to realize that all of my favorite memories include you, Louis. You were my world. You still are my world. I can’t imagine my life without you. And the time that I’ve spent without you so far doesn’t suffice to much of a life at all.”

Harry stops talking for a second and looks up. Above him, he can see a tiny bit of the sky through the leaves of the trees, and the sun shines through, creating magnificent and wonderful rays of light, skewing out in all directions. Sort of heavenly, he thinks to himself. As he stares silently, Louis’ note sitting in his palm begins to feel like a deadweight.

He thinks about the words written on the page, and even though he has the whole thing memorized, he decides to read it once again. The pages seem to take forever to unfold, when he finally reaches the ink. He begins to read:

_My darling,_

_Harry, oh Harry, baby please don’t blame yourself. That’s the first thing I want to say. I know you do, and I know you will, but I need you to know that this isn’t your fault. You did not inflict this on me. I love you, it’s the rest of the world I hate. Things have been so hard lately. I know you don’t know this. I couldn’t bring you down with my pain. You have so much to worry about already, and I shouldn’t have to be added to that list. All I want is for you to be happy._ – ‘All I wanted was for you to be happy as well, but you wouldn’t let me help you’ Harry thinks – _So please don’t take this out on yourself. Live your life, be happy._

_Please, be strong for my mother and the girls. They will need all the support they can get. This will totally blindside them and I’m sorry I put this on you as well. But I know how strong you are, and I know you will get through this. Also, don’t show this note to anyone. This is yours and yours only. I will explain everything and as much as my friends and family will want to know why I did this, I don’t want anyone but you to truly know. I love you so much, baby. So, so much._

_Alright, well, over the past couple of years, I’ve become really depressed with life. Self-esteem issues, never feeling good enough, stuff like that. Again, don’t blame yourself, Harry. Honestly, you were the only person who could make me feel anything but disgusting. I felt insufficient in every way. I kept fucking up at my job, and the only reason they kept me was because my step father owns the company. I started to feel really bad about my looks as well. My belly was huge, my thighs were way too thick, and my face had too much pudge to it. I felt like I wasn’t good enough for you. You with the perfectly toned torso, infinitely long legs, and adorable dimples. And I was getting reminded of that too. People would tell me I didn’t deserve you. And that made me feel like shit._ – Harry begins crying right here. The fact that anyone would say that to Louis made him sick to his stomach and fuming with rage. -  _I tried to be strong for you, I really did. I held on much longer than I thought I could. The decision to do it today came on a whim. I saw the opportunity with you being out, and took it._

_I love you so much, Harry. Please, tell my mom and the girls that I love them as well. Tell them I’m sorry for me. They don’t deserve this pain either. I just want you to understand that I am truly sorry for doing this to you. For inflicting this pain on you. I just hope that you can understand that I was in pain as well. That the pain that I was facing was unbearable and I couldn’t stand it anymore._

_I can’t go on much longer, I’m crying too hard. I would fill this whole notebook with I’m sorrys and I love yous, but I need to end this pain. I am so, so sorry baby. I love you so fucking much it hurts._

_Infinitely and wonderfully yours,_

_Louis_

Harry takes a deep breath and tries to subside the tears, but to no avail. He knows he’s going to have to leave soon, the sun is already setting. He slowly folds the paper again and sticks it in his pocket. He gets up off the ground and brushes off his clothes. He looks over the headstone one more time, reading the words carefully ‘ _incredible boyfriend’._ He certainly was incredible. But in more ways than just a boyfriend. As a lover, as a friend, as an enemy, and as a person. Harry knows what he has to do. Well, not so much what he has to do but he _needs_ to do. He can’t take this anymore.

“I’ll see you soon, babe,” Harry chokes out over his tears, as he touches the top of the headstone. He cries the rest of the way home.

-

His tears don’t stop as he gets out of the car and makes his way inside the apartment. They keep flowing down his cheeks as he enters his room to gather the pieces of metal he has relied on since Louis’ death. They are incessant as Harry undresses and fills the tub with water. Never stopping, as he sits down in the tub and brings the blade to his wrist. They are steady as he rakes the blade across both wrists, creating cuts too deep to be stopped. He keeps crying as the blood flows from his body into the tub.

The tears only stop when his heart does and he is met with the beautiful face of the boy he loves so much. His heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are always greatly appreciated :)


End file.
